Of Radish Pancakes and Flour on the Floor
by GalaxyOwl13
Summary: Neville has been hiding away in his room since the war, and Luna is determined to help him by inviting herself over. In which Luna and Neville eat a pancake breakfast in the evening and Luna decides the kitchen is too clean. Neville/Luna (can be interpreted as romantic or not). Written for the Pancake Challenge on HPFC! Starts sad, ends with some fluff.


**I don't normally write anything like this, but I'm trying my best. This is for the International House of Pancake-writers: Pancake Challenge! on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges. Warnings: Epilogue compliant, but not compliant with additional information given by J.K. Rowling. Angst, but it ends on a happy note. Wow, this story mutated quite a lot.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe.**

Luna smiles, stirring the batter around in the bowl with her large wooden spoon as she sings about Nargles. Neville's been forgetting to wear his Nargle repellent, obviously, since he's been shut up in his room all day ever since the battle. That's why Luna has invited herself over.

The floor is too clean, Luna decides, so she sprinkles a bit of flour here and there over the frozen wood beams. It could do with a bit of dirt, dirt that Neville has tracked in from a day working in his greenhouses. Dirt that isn't there. Neville never goes outside anymore.

The cupboards are too neat, Luna decides, so she takes out the pots and pans and mixes them up. They could do with a bit of using, using to make food that the family eats together. Using that isn't there. Neville never eats anymore.

The room is too perfect, Luna decides, so she places wildflowers with missing petals in a chipped vase. It could do with a bit of living, living that messes things up and makes the room interesting. Living that isn't there. Neville never really lives anymore.

Luna sings, fixing the room with every mistake she makes, until Neville hears the noises and stumbles down the stairs.

The first thing she notices are his eyes, eyes that are full of sadness and misery and suffering. Eyes with bags under them, that long to close but are too afraid of the nightmares that would bring.

"What are you doing here?" Neville asks. "I – I didn't…"

"I invited myself over." Luna says, still smiling. "Right now, I'm making breakfast. Do you want some, or will I have to feed it to the Blibbering Humdingers?" Neville looks over at the clock – it's 5:30 pm.

"But –" Luna just hums and adds radishes to the bowl, chopping them up with a magically sharpened spoon. "Luna, now isn't the best time. I just – need to be alone for a little while."

"There are a lot of wrackspurts surrounding you." Luna comments. "Do you want to see them?"

"I – Luna, I'm sorry. I just can't deal with it, okay? You can stay if you want, but I'm going back to my room." Neville says quietly.

"The pancakes are almost finished." Luna tells him. "If you don't want that, eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"When's the last time you were?" Luna asks, spooning small circles of the batter onto the pan waiting on the burn-proof counter. Looking at his expression, she continues. "When did you eat most recently?"

"Saturday." It's Monday now. Luna casts the heating charm on the pancakes and turns towards Neville.

"Well, you're going to have breakfast now." She flips a pancake cheerfully and it lands on Neville's face. He laughs, quickly, before becoming quiet and thoughtful again. For a second, Luna sees the Neville that he used to be, before the war, but then he slips away. Neville will never be the same. "Sit down."

"Maybe it would be best if you go back home, Luna," Neville says. "I'm sure your father misses you terribly."

"It's been half an hour, Neville, he'll live." Luna sets two places at the table. "Get a candle."

"What?" Neville asks.

"It seems I'm the one that's doing all the work here – cooking, anti-cleaning –"

"Anti-cleaning?" Luna points to the flour on the floor. Neville gives a brief smile.

"So go get a candle. You promised me that after the war we'd have a nice, candlelit meal. Candles repel the Nargles, you know." The reference to Nargles seems half-hearted, even to Luna. She doesn't talk the same way anymore, with her carefree voice and numerous references to her strange beliefs, Neville noticed. "You're only doing yourself harm, staying shut up in your room. You haven't been to the greenhouses since last summer. You used to love Herbology."

"I still do," Neville says quietly. "I just can't do this. I'm a hero to them, and they all want to ask me questions about Nagini, and the Resistance in Hogwarts, and then they get upset when I don't want to tell them for the millionth time how I got each scar. Now I know what Harry must've felt like. Except he killed Voldemort. He's living happily at the Burrow. And here I am, crying and feeling sorry for myself! I can't do it! I can't be their hero! I'm sorry," he whispers, "but you really should go."

"Neville, it won't get better if you just hide from them."

"I know," Neville tells her, "but I still can't do it."

"Well you don't have to right now," Luna comments, fishing a red and blue candle out from her bag. "Right now you just have to do things one step at a time. Starting with eating breakfast." She places a radish pancake on each of the plates.

"Did you put your earrings in the food?" Neville asks, a little bit worried.

"Of course not, and you're very welcome."

"Thanks," Neville says sheepishly. He cautiously takes a bite of his pancake and smiles. "These are actually really good."

"Actually?" Luna asks with mock indignation. "What did you expect? I know what I'm doing! The Blibbering Humdingers shared their secret recipes with me, you know. They love to confuse people." Neville smiles again. His pancake is gone within minutes, and he can't stop smiling. "Do you want to help make some more?" Luna asks.

"Sure," Neville says, suddenly wanting Luna to stay and talk and eat radish pancakes with him until the day is over, so that he doesn't have to go back to being alone. Once he starts to talk to people, he wants more and more, and doesn't want to be alone again. And he never realized how much he missed Luna before now.

Together, they make another batch of radish pancakes. Luna balances a pan on top of her head until it falls to the ground with a clatter. Neville picks the pancake up at the same time as Luna, and they both tug on it until it rips in half. "I think my piece is bigger," Luna says, "so I won."

Neville looks at hers – it's at least twice as small as his piece, and he says so. "Do you want to switch?"

"Mine is bigger, silly. You won't trick me!" Neville flips the other two pancakes surprisingly well, and Luna applies liberal amounts of whipped cream to both. Neville doesn't really like whipped cream, but that doesn't matter much. Neither of them eat the pancakes anyway. Instead, they just talk, enjoying each other's company, until Neville's gran comes down the stairs and looks at the mess they've made in horror.

"What –" she says, stunned speechless. "You weren't – I didn't know – how – Neville!"

Neville and Luna grin simultaneously. "We were just making pancakes, gran," Neville explains.

"I…see."

"Don't worry," Luna says, "the wrackspurts have left us alone, so far. As have the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, unfortunately. But they'll be here soon if you keep the room too clean, you see."

"You were…worried that if the room was too clean the rakey-spurs would come?" Neville's gran asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow as she stares at the mess.

"Wrackspurts," Neville corrects her, "and we'll clean up the mess." Luna looks disappointed. "But can we keep the flowers, gran?"

"I…very well." Neville's gran agrees as Luna and Neville clean up the pots and pans and siphon the ingredients off the floor. Luna makes sure to put a few of the pots in the pan cupboard, though. "But you will have to introduce me to this young lady."

"This is Luna, gran." Neville says as Luna admires her work. The room is no longer perfect, and though it could be called neat or clean it is not unbearably so. The kitchen looks lived in, unlike the museum it was an hour ago. And although the pots and pans and kitchen ingredient have been put away, a little bit of the flour remains on the floor. "She's my friend."

**So…I finished that. Not sure which levels/prompts it counts as or if the challenge is even still active, but I succeeded! (Sort of). **


End file.
